


Jack Slash is my BOYFRIEND!!?

by Discreet



Category: Worm - Wildbow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 04:12:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11889747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Discreet/pseuds/Discreet
Summary: A fangirl gets a surprise visit from her idol.





	Jack Slash is my BOYFRIEND!!?

> **Jack Slash is my BOYFRIEND!!?**
> 
>   
>  It's a miserable morning and I wake up pissed. My name is Justine and I've got to go to fucking school. I put on my clothes, torn jeans, a black top with frayed edges and a spiked collar. I don't need to put makeup on because my eyes are just naturally dark. I look awesome, but not like I'm trying too hard.
> 
> I go to school and when I get there the other kids all stare. The guys are drooling and the girls are jealous. I hear some girl whisper something like "she thinks she's so cool," and I turn on that bimbo, I get up in her face and I say "I don't THINK I'm cool, I KNOW I'm cool. Now fuck off, BITCH."
> 
> She backs off, she knows not to mess with me. I give her loser friends a glare and they get the message, they run away too.
> 
> I head to class. First period is Chemistry with Mr. Dumont and I'm the last one in. I sit down by myself in the back and put my feet up on the table. Mr. Dumont starts to say something, but I give him the middle finger and he shuts up. Mr. Dumont is a dick and his class is stupid. The whole school is stupid. I don't know why I even bother coming. In fact, I might as well just leave right now. I start to get up, but I stop as the door opens.
> 
> A devilishly handsome man enters the room, his hair is slicked back and his goatee is groomed to perfection. He's wearing a white shirt that's unbuttoned in the front, revealing his chiseled chest and rock-hard abs. He's got the sexiest smile, playful but in a naughty way.
> 
> It's Jack Fucking Slash.
> 
> "Class is canceled," he says smartly and then he whips out his knife and Mr. Dumont's fat head goes flying off. The head lands right in front of some blonde cheerleader and she starts screaming. The whole classroom runs off, totally scared, until I'm the only one left.
> 
> Jack Slash turns to look at me, his eyes going up and down my body. "You're not running?" He asks curiously.
> 
> I shake my head, "Nah, I ain't afraid."
> 
> "Hm," Jack Slash smiles at me, still devilish and naughty, "How interesting. I like interesting."
> 
> I smile back and say  
>    
> 

Justine's hands froze over the keyboard as her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. And she had just thought of the the perfect fucking line, the witty comeback that would make Jack Slash swoon for her. Justine turned in her chair and yelled. "Go away, Aunt Mary-Ann. I'm busy!"

Aunt Mary-Ann didn't yell anything back, but she didn't go away either. Just knocked on the door again, a three-beat rap.

"I said I'm _busy_!" Justine yelled and turned back to her desk. The blinking cursor on her computer screen beckoned to her. She had to get back to Jack Slash. Justine settled her fingertips over the keyboard, the stream of words beginning to return when...

Knock, knock, knock.

"God damnit!" Justine screamed as she tore out of her seat and stomped to the door. She flung it open, " _What do_ -"

Justine stopped, her mouth hanging open.

"Hey," Jack Slash said.

Justine stared up at him, empty.

"Well," he drawled, "Aren't you going to invite me in, dear?"

Justine closed her mouth and nodded.

Jack Slash smiled. Justine wasn't sure if she would call it devilish or naughty. It seemed almost automatic, like he found everything amusing. He pushed the door open a little wider and stepped around Justine's frozen form.

"Hm," he hummed, looking around the room.

Oh God, Justine thought to herself. The posters. The _hand-drawn_ posters. Big laminated sheets of Jack Slash. One with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes cast downward, almost shy. Another with his shirt rippling open, completely unbuttoned along with the top of his pants which were on the cusp of sliding off entirely.

Jack Slash stared at his drawn crotch thoughtfully. "Not bad." He looked back at Justine, again with that easy smile, "Did you draw this yourself?"

"I, uh," Justine swallowed, still rooted to the same spot, "I traced it."

Jack Slash turned back to the poster and nodded. "Traced it, huh? And the face? How'd you do that one?"

"I... I drew over another picture," Justine said, immediately regretting it. Why? Why couldn't she have just lied? Was she a total idiot?

"Hah!" Jack Slash laughed. "Like doodling a goatee and devil horns on the newspapers?"

Justine flushed red and looked away.

"Oh, don't worry," Jack Slash said as he walked over to Justine, crossing the distance that she was incapable of changing, "I don't mind. I know how hard it can be to find merchandise of me." He put his hand on her chin, turning her to face him. "I'm not exactly family-friendly."

He looked older than Justine imagined. This close, she could see the flecks of gray in his hair, the beginning of wrinkles forming around his eyes. Still, the piercing blue of his eyes were unmistakable, this was Jack Slash. Leader of the Slaughterhouse Nine. The most wanted man in the States. A murderer.

"No witty quip?" Jack Slash's hand fell away and he took a step back, "No smart-mouthed retort?"

Justine blinked dumbly.

"Come on," Jack Slash sighed, shaking his head, "You are ShadowKitty95, right? Author of 'Tall, Pale and Dangerous', 'The Goatee Tickles' and ‘Jack / Off’?"

Justine bit her lip. "Yes?"

"Great!" Jack Slash said, "I'm a _big_ fan of your work. I've read every one."

"You... you have?" Justine asked.

"Oh, most definitely. Very tantalizing stuff. The prose leave much to be desired, no offense, but the _ideas_ , oh yes, the ideas are fascinating."

Justine stumbled backwards onto her bed, sitting heavily. "You _like_ my stories?" She asked breathless.

"Like?" Jack Slash laughed, "I _love_ them! Dare I say it, I think I'm your biggest fan."

Justine's head jerked up. There was something about the way he had phrased that. "You're knifefan9," she whispered.

"Oh, well done," Jack Slash said, "There's that cleverness you're always talking about in your stories."

"You've liked and commented on every single one of my stories."

"Like I said," Jack Slash grinned, "I'm a big fan."

Justine bit her lip. This wasn't a dream, was it? She had imagined scenarios just like this one, but she had never thought it would actually happen. Meeting Jack Slash. Him actually _liking_ her work. Him actually liking _her_. Justine felt her cheeks turning red. Did she have a chance here?

"So," Justine spoke up, mustering her courage, "What are you here for?"

"Other than an autograph?" Jack Slash smiled. He eyed her as he sat down next to her, his leg brushing with hers and she could feel the warmth of his body. He turned and whispered in her ear. "I'm here for you."

The knife pierced Justine through the side, just under the ribs. She gasped, her breath halted as her body worked to cope with the sudden hole in it. Jack Slash put a hand against her and pushed, knocking her flat on the bed.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Justine gasped. She touched her side, felt the sticky warmth, looked down and saw just how _red_ it was.

“Do you remember this scene?” Jack Slash asked, still a breathy whisper. “From ‘Tall, Pale and Dangerous’? Tell me what happens next.”

Tears welled in Justine’s, the words going through one ear and out the other. Her stomach hurt. Or not her stomach, her whole body. It hurt, it really, really hurt. She didn't know how else to describe it. Flowery descriptions and metaphors vanished from her mind she only knew that it hurt and she was scared.

Her mouth opened to make some cry for help, to get him to stop, for something, but all that came out was "Ah." Like a fish gasping for breath. "Ah, ah, ah."

Jack Slash's smile turned to a frown.

"Come on, Justine," Jack Slash held out the knife in front of her eyes, she could see the blood on the blade. "Tell me what happens next. Or else I'll have to improvise."

Oh please, Justine thought, she couldn't take any more pain. She forced her voice out. "Y-y-you, you k-kiss me."

Jack Slash smiled down at her, not moving. "Before that," he said.

Justine swallowed and it was hard. She was trembling, her whole body, from her toes to her throat, little jitters that wouldn't stop.

"I-I-I stab... you."

Jack Slash produced a second knife, twirling it before holding the handle out to her. It was only a few inches from her hand, but it might as well have been miles. Justine couldn't move, everything hurt too much.

"Come on, Justine," Jack Slash coaxed her, "This is your big moment, this is what gets me to respect you as a woman. See you as an equal. This is the moment you make me your's."

But Justine didn't want him. Not as a lover or a boyfriend or even as an acquaintance. All Justine wanted was to go to the hospital, have her wound stitched up, her blood refilled and be pumped with so much drugs that she could just forget that this had ever happened. Justine stared at the knife before her. Its shape blurred, the edge dull one moment then gleaming the next. Even if she could take it, would Jack Slash really let her stab him?

She looked at him, the man of her dreams for so long and finally understood what everyone meant. All the angry comments, all the hatemail, all the shouted insults, it finally made sense.

The smug motherfucker was _laughing_ at her.

Justine focused on her hand, chanted it forward. Move, move, move. Take the knife. Stab his face, stab his stupid fucking face.

She gripped the knife and yanked it out of Jack Slash's hand. His laughter stopped and it was like a switch had been flipped, a surge of strength filled Justine and she plunged the knife straight into Jack Slash's chest. Lower than she hoped, but good enough.

Jack Slash stepped back. He looked down at his chest, the knife down to its hilt, then up at Justine.

His mouth formed an O, no longer smiling. There was no witty quip. No smart retort.

Just "Ow."

Take that, fucker, Justine thought. And then her head fell back on the bed and everything went dark.

* * *

Justine woke to a beeping. Steady pulses, high-pitched, but muted. It was a familiar sound. Justine's media obsessed mind tried to place the sound, she had heard it so many times before. And then she remembered.

Justine opened her eyes and sure enough, she was in a hospital room. A heart monitor was wired up to her, beeping regularly. Alongside it was a blood bag feeding into her arm. Justine cracked a grin at the sight of it. Blood! She was getting her blood back!

"Oh, thank god, you're awake!" A voice cried out. Arms wrapped around Justine and a big bushy head of hair went into her face. It smelled of cats.

"Hey, Aunt Mary-Ann," Justine replied, her voice quiet and scratchy.

"Oh, Jessy, I was so worried," Aunt Mary-Ann moaned, squeezing tighter, "When I found you, my god!"

Justine smiled, not minding as much about her aunt's nickname for her. "I'm okay, auntie. I'm okay."

"Okay, my foot!" Aunt Mary-Ann pulled away so that they were face-to-face. "You could've died! Blood all over you, blood all over your bed, just blood everywhere! It'll take weeks to clean out!"

Justine couldn't help it, she laughed. Clean it out! Just like Aunt Mary-Ann to worry about crap like that. Justine's laugh turned to a cough, but that didn't stop her. It was just too funny. She had- she had-

Justine blinked and looked at her auntie seriously. "What happened to Jack Slash?"

Aunt Mary-Ann gave her a look, " _Who_?"

"Jack- the- the man. The man who was in there with me."

"Oh the guy with a knife in him?"

Justine swallowed. "Yeah, him."

"Well, he was unconscious when I found you. He must've fainted, but he was muttering some real wicked things in his sleep. Some real nasty things." Aunt Mary-Ann shook her head, disapproving at the memory.

" _Auntie_ ," Justine said, trying to get the woman to focus, " _What happened?_ "

"Oh, well," Aunt Mary-Ann's cheeks went red. "It didn't take me much to figure it was him that hurt you. So I, I uh. I guess I lost it a bit. Your auntie went a little crazy, you know."

Justine stared at her.

Aunt Mary-Ann's cheeks went even redder. She had to say it. "I dropped the computer on his head."

Justine's head fell back. She stared up at the ceiling, white tiles perfectly blank. "You dropped my computer on his head."

"Well," Aunt Mary-Ann swallowed, "Not just once. It might've been multiple times. And not just dropping it, but..." Aunt Mary-Ann motioned with her hands like she was swinging a sledgehammer. "Something like that."

Justine looked at her aunt.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I know you had a lot of 'important' stories on there. But like I said, I just, I just went nuts!"

Justine burst into laughter again. "Don't worry about _that_! That's the last thing I'm worried about! In fact," Justine breathed, a grin lingering on her face, "I should thank you. You saved my life."

"Oh come on, sweetie," Aunt Mary-Ann giggled, "You know it's the doctors that do all the work. I was just panicking."

Justine opened her mouth but before she could tell her aunt how wrong she was, that she had done an incredible thing, there was a knock at the door.

"That must be the doctor now," Aunt Mary-Ann exclaimed, "Perfect timing, you can thank him." She turned to the door. "Come in, she's awake!"

It was not the doctor. Or at least it didn't look like any doctor Justine had ever seen. It was a woman in a moss-green power-suit, technological wizardy lining every inch of the suit which covered her body entirely. Only her face remained open.

"Justine and Mary-Ann Weathers?" The woman asked, sounding so normal for a woman wearing the equivalent of a tank.

Justine nodded her head, too stunned to speak.

"My name is Dragon. I've been chasing after Jack Slash for several months now."

Justine nodded again, tongue still tied.

"I'm here to thank the two of you. Jack Slash was a real monster and you saved a lot of lives taking him down."

Dragon held out a hand, first to Aunt Mary-Ann who was equally speechless, but still capable of movement, and then to Justine. Slowly, Justine regained enough of her senses to take the giant gauntlet and give it a shake.

"Now I understand if you don't want to make a big scene of this," Dragon said, "But there is the matter of the reward-"

"Reward?" Justine spoke up, her brain snagging on that particular word.

"Yes, there was a sizable bounty on Jack Slash's head. A lot of people wanted him dead and were willing to pay for it. The two of you are entitled to the entirety of it."

"How," Justine swallowed, giving her brain time to catch up, "How much?"

"Fifty-five million dollars."

Justine lay back in her bed. Distantly she heard Aunt Mary-Ann gasp and go off on something about her cats. Justine didn't really know. She felt like she was in a dream. Jack Slash showing up at her door. Her fantasy boyfriend, the one she dreamed of had stabbed her and watched her bleed out. Getting stabbed wasn't nearly as romantic as her stories had made it out to be.

 _Nothing_ about her stories had been romantic, Justine realized. They were all awful because they all had to do with a psychopathic, sadistic _monster_. Everyone had said as much, but it had never really reached Justine, not until it literally stabbed right into her gut. What had she been _doing_ obsessing over that _good-for-nothing piece of shit_?

"My word!" Aunt Mary-Ann exclaimed, fanning herself with her hand, "Fifty-five million dolars! I just can't get over it!"

Fifty-five million dollars.

Justine smiled.

Well, she supposed Jack Slash was good for _one_ thing.


End file.
